faint
by and it was called yellow
Summary: you left me. and, for that, you are going to pay / the one-shot of how it's never really good to leave your girl, especially once you've gotten her pregnant. girl-power, right?


_I can't feel the way I did before_

_Don't turn your back on me_

_I won't be ignored_

**faint | **linkin park

* * *

Running. He was running for his life. Her normally pale blue eyes glistened and shone with malice and wickedness as she chased him. Her rosy red lips were set in what seemed like a permanent scowl. She was annoyed, she was disappointed in him for leaving her and abandoning her, especially with something as precious as a baby girl. He didn't mean to (actually, he sorta did). That was just how young men of the day were, and he chose to go with the flow. Besides, it would have stained his permanent record if the town had found out that he impregnated a girl at the tender age of 16. The press would have a field day, that's for sure. She didn't understand his motives, but she had been watching him, watching his every move. She had scouts in all parts of the world that relayed information to her as she took care of their baby called Anne. Anne Harrington. That sounded nice.

A tree branch came out of nowhere and tripped him; he tumbled to the ground and fell flat on his face. As he scrambled to get up, she pushed him down with the strength of one hand and muttered a couple of words: _Nullam ac vinctum._ As though by magic (and not the type that the little children loved to watch on stage) he realised that he couldn't move at all. He felt ropes tying him up, but he couldn't see them. She simply smiled at him and sat down cross-legged beside him, sharpening what looked like a very sharp knife. He wasn't allergic to many things but that knife seemed to give him a rash every time he looked at it.

"Why?" he asked her. "Why are you doing this to me? I understand that I left you, but that isn't a good enough reason. Perhaps, if you untie me, we can go back to the town and talk this over. I have a lawyer that would be perfect for you..."

_Summam scrutemur. _He opened his mouth to speak some more, but no sound came out. She looked at him with a look that would kill him instantly. For a moment, he actually believed that she could. She had always been capable of doing things that seemed supernatural, that seemed strange and unusual. No wonder only she lived in that big and empty manor. "Don't ask such stupid questions," she began, giving him another look of disgust. "I hate it when people lie to me, but I'm sure you already know that. If you didn't want to take care of Anne, all you had to do was say so. Instead, you fed me a bunch of bullshit, telling me that you were off vacationing with your cousins. You seem to have forgotten that I can get everything that I want. Right now, what I want is for you to die." _Nec, mea cura._ "You don't know what it's like to have people look at you and think quite disgusting words towards you. They told me I was a slut. When I told them it was your child, they called me a liar. You have to pay for what you have done."

He shook his head violently, given the fact that he couldn't talk. To be honest, he hadn't really given a rat's tail about her after he learned that she was pregnant. She was just a one night stand – a hot one at that – but he wasn't going to be tied down to her. Every man (boy, actually) wanted to be free, right? A bead of sweat trailed down his face, and she wiped it with her finger, sniffing it afterwards. _Jucunda._ It was like heaven, his juices were flowing marvelously. He fervently wished that he was Christian, and not an atheist, so that he could at least beg God to let him out of this hell hole, away from this demon of a person.

A strange sensation, starting from his feet, began to overtake him. He struggled to aim his eyes in the right direction, as his head was paralysed. As she sat beside him, her sharp knife seemed to have a mind of its own. It began to move towards him, hopping even, and threw itself on his leg, sawing furiously. _What is this__?_ he tried to say, but no sound came out once more.

"This," she said, "is the beginning of a series of events that will make you wish that you never even thought of leaving me."

_The hell_, he thought again. _Is she actually reading my thoughts?_

"Yes," she stated proudly. "I really am. It's been a gift of mine ever since I was born."

_Don't kill me. I promise, I'll make things work._

"You had your chance." As she spoke, her knife made its way to his left arm, sawing it off efficiently. The last thing he saw before it went dark was her tongue as she licked her lips hungrily.

* * *

Derrick Harrington was found and reported dead in his kitchen the following day. Police reports said that a force, almost demonic, drove him to sleepwalk and cut off his body parts. His mother sobbed greatly but there was nothing she could do about it. The death was announced to the school by Alicia Rivera. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. At his funeral, Claire Lyons and Massie Block sat side by side as they cried their hearts out. Alas, they were such good actors. For when the time came to pay their respects, Massie used her coat to shield Claire as she slipped his withered heart into the coffin. No one noticed the blood stains on their mouths.

* * *

a one-shot that I based on a story by my friend. I killed Derrick because he was annoying me, especially in the story. she loved it, though. threatened to upload it for me if I didn't do so myself.

**translations**

_Nullam ac vinctum – Stay down and shut up._

_Nec, mea cura – Not now, my pets._

_Jucunda – Delightful_

~_courtesy of Google Translate_


End file.
